A Late Night Encounter
by Elenko
Summary: What if Joker's little Harleen Quinzel was a normal woman, living a normal life with a perfectly normal boyfriend. But things are never normal, are they?


Downtown was busy, considering it was in the middle of the night. Then again, it was a Friday. Of course it would be busy. She slowly walked down the streets, afraid of the ever present alleyways, threatening to swallow her whole if she dared to venture in.

It had been a nice little visit to her so-called boyfriend. He had given her a nice dinner, lit candles, a present, even. Everything had been perfect, until she had mentioned that she was contemplating to move away. To Gotham.

He had looked her with eyes that seemed to penetrate her soul. His mouth had instantaneously been pulled into a thin line. He had merely said, "I see", before he continued to remove the plates and throw away the leftovers. Their romantic dinner had ended with one of the biggest fights they had ever had. She hated it.

She had left his home and started to walk to the subway, only to realize they had stopped running for some reason. Sighing and feeling close to tears, she had gone up and started walking towards her home Downtown.

She remembered how he had scolded her for allowing herself to be fooled to buy a flat there. Not only was it overpriced, it was also smack in the middle of a god damn party area. She had admitted defeat. Not only was it expensive, she was kept awake until early in the mornings.

That being said, she liked it. It was hers. And all hers.

Despite Alex's complaints and urgings, she had liked it too much to move into his place. She always brushed his requests under the rug, trying desperately not to hurt his feelings while maintaining her own personal sphere. She had liked him, she supposed. She might not have been all over him, like she used to be, but she always assumed it would come back. It couldn't be gone forever, could it?

Today marked the first time he had been mad at her in a long time. Usually he faked a smile and went to watch TV, perhaps read a book. Now he had practically thrown down the plates in the basin. She had felt like a child being scolded by her parent. It was almost thrilling, if it wasn't so fucking scary.

Like always, she had excused herself and gone to the bathroom. There she had been sitting on the toilet for what felt like ages, before she heard him ask her to go home. He couldn't drive her, since his car was being worked on. Liar, she had thought. His black sedan had been in the parking garage, but she was too tired and fed up to even notice.

To be fair, he had every right to be pissed off at her. He had given her everything she wanted. But he could never have her. That one thing inside of her that made her the person behind those green eyes. The person who sometimes broke down in tears over her own helplessness in the world. The person who sometimes called in sick because she had a panic attack. The person despite, or because, her sheer brilliance, was kicking herself in her imaginary balls.

Love. It was never about love as much as it was about a false sense of security. When she was in a tight spot, he would come as a god damn knight on a white horse. He would save her from whatever mess she had put herself in, and yet she had thrown him away. She hadn't even discussed the move to Gotham with him, it wasn't a discussion. She was going there.

He would have been free to come with her, of course. She would have welcomed it. But alas, he had his own high paying job here. Feeling like a complete idiot for dumping, or being dumped, depending on the viewpoint, she walked home.

It was in the middle of summer, and even though it was hot, a wind was blowing along the now trash filled streets. She loved walking around in the middle of the night, it was peaceful and calm, for the most part. Even though it was considered a party neighbourhood, and parties kept going until 6 am sometimes, it its own vibe and feel. She might not have fit in there, but that didn't matter. There wasn't one particular mould you would have to fit in, all you had to do was be there. In the smack middle of it all, and everything would be fine.

Alex's place was far away, probably a good two hours. She was thankful she had put on her low-heeled shoes, otherwise walking might have been an impossibility tomorrow. She was only a few blocks away from home when something caught her attention in one of the dwindling alleys.

She hesitated. Even though her mind was distant, it wasn't that distant. She realized the dangers for a young woman walking down the alley in the middle of the night. As she peered closer into the alleyway she heard the faint sound of heavy breathing.

Fear paralysed her as the barely lit entrance seemed to want to swallow her whole. She stood there for a long time. Waiting. When no one seemed to come forth, she realized a shaky breath. Despite her better judgement, she took a deliberately slow step into the alley.

At first she didn't see anything, mainly because she was staring straight into the narrow space. It wasn't until a cough coming from the left side broke her attention she noticed the man.

He looked like a homeless person at first. His hair was disgustingly sticking to his forehead. It struck her that he had probably not washed for a long, long time. His face appeared to be almost white and his clothing was a disarray of badly mismatched colours. He looked pitiful, slumped towards the wall. She was torn. He had obviously not noticed her – she could easily run away. Something stopped her. When would she stop acting so selfish towards people. "Um, sir?" She hesitantly asked. "Are you ok?"

"Do you need any help?" She asked more forcefully, in case he didn't hear it the first time. She didn't have the time to register what had happened before she was pushed to the ground. Her head hit the asphalt with a sickening crack. Stars were dancing in front of her eyes, and she felt a heavy weight on her torso.

She also felt the cold feeling of a knife sliding across her face. "Now, now." She heard the man say as he continued to caress her face with the edge of his knife. "I heard you the first time, no need to yell."

In the dim light she was unable to see anything more than the ghostly clown make-up. She was terrified beyond her wits. It was like her brain had stopped responding with coherent thoughts, and all she was left with was a blabbering train of thought that inevitable lead her to strange places.

From his vantage point he was eyeing her, evaluating her expression. He was lying if he said he didn't want to give her a nice smile. From ear to ear.

He was interrupted by the sound of a drunk crowd coming closer and closer to their destination. He could easily do a half assed job of her mouth, but that wasn't his style. He wanted to take his time, make them beg for him to end their lives, instead of sparing it. As the crowd drew closer, he lent down to whisper in her ear, "I'll see you later, sweetheart."

With that, he left her lying on the ground. Her head was pounding. Her body was trembling. And she was utterly terrified. Scrambling to her feet, she searched for her handbag, which she found after accidentally touching broken glass, various food parts – all which made her hands sting. She had started crying. Trying her best to suppress the sobs threatening to spill over.

She felt at the back of her skull, but was unable to locate any wounds. Her hands were bleeding regardless, so it wouldn't make any difference.

She headed out of the alleyway as quickly as possible. Trying her best to not sprint the short distance. When she finally got home she pressed the button to the elevator, her hands shaking, both from the attack and the cold that had managed to creep into her spine. When the elevator 'dinged' its arrival she hurriedly skipped into it, like the doors would somehow crush her between them.

Upon entering her apartment, she quickly locked the door. She pulled down the blinders and pulled the curtains in front of the windows. Ignoring her pains in the hands a bit longer, she moved towards the kitchen. She took the largest knife she could find and made a round in the apartment. She checked her small closet, bathroom, bedroom, living room, and the small toilet just next to the front door. It was safe, and she finally let her sobbing to come through.

Her hands were stinging from the cuts, but she could only focus on the crying. She was positive everyone in the building had heard her wailing. Either they had heard, or they were doing something that demanded their entire attention. Only two options struck her: sex or sleep. She made herself take a deep breath and rise herself from the floor.

She wanted to call Alex, but she knew he wouldn't be alone. She could lie and say she didn't know about his emotional breakdowns, and the way a certain Heather from his work always came to his rescue. She had known, and she had ignored it. She cleaned herself up in the bathroom.

The soap stung as it her cuts. She needed to shower, she concluded as she looked up in the mirror. The blood had smeared itself across the face, and where the psychotic man had pulled his knife she could see a small line. It wasn't bleeding too much, but it had been.

Her whole body hurt as she opened up her blazer. Her tank top was hard to pull up over her head and toss in the growing pile of clothes. Her body creaked with every move and she wasn't late to notice the redness around her upper arms.

Once she was fully stripped, she stepped into the shower. She looked down on the bathroom floor, feeling slightly better as she watched the water mix with the bloody residue left on her body. It was enough, she thought, she was going to Gotham no matter what. It was over with everything. It wasn't just Alex, it was the city as well.

This night proved it.


End file.
